


You Look Like Yourself (But You're Somebody Else)

by Anonymous



Series: Unrelated MCYT Works [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, But Not Georgenap Only Dreamnap, Clay | Dream Has a God Complex (Video Blogging RPF), Depersonalization, Dream SMP Universe, Established Relationship, God Complex, Hand Waved Magical Mechanics, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I Hope I Used Depersonalization and Derealization Right Please Ask If I Need To Change Any Tags, M/M, Memory Alteration, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Manipulation, Not As Dark As The Tags Imply I Just Want To Be Careful, Panic Attacks, Temporary Amnesia, Unhealthy Relationships, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), derealisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-26 21:15:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30112155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Things finally seem to be settling down now that Dream's in prison, particularly for George and Sapnap, who are comfortably domestic in the Kinoko Kingdom. Unfortunately, unbeknownst to either of them, Dream has a contingency, and that involves Sapnap, whether he wants it or not. After all, Dream's got a trick up his sleeve which means that soon enough, Sapnap will want whatever Dream thinks he should, be it wanting Dream out of prison or forgetting his own boyfriend.It's left up to George to find Sapnap, no matter how much he vehemently hates getting involved with the server's goings-on.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Unrelated MCYT Works [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2223813
Comments: 37
Kudos: 157
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fuck it. Georgenap featuring the world's unhealthiest Dreamnap. We've got three chapters, the second of which is a slightly shorter interlude. A few lore notes: lots of canon divergence starting mostly after season 2. The Egg arc is assumed to have ended well for everyone (except the Egg, obviously) with no canon final deaths. Dream is, at least at first, still in the prison, Quackity's (incredible) new lore isn't happening and Tommy has worked through his trauma to the extent of being able to pull off a plot saving grace moment. George never had any of those moments we've seen on his streams where he breaks blocks at the prison before giving up, but he's still only peripherally present on the SMP, which basically means that in-world he just doesn't get out much while things continue on around him. Puffy ended up being surprisingly prominent just because she's great. Dream in particular may be quite OOC, please forgive me, I just got a plot bunny and started writing.
> 
> Absolutely no reflection on irl CCs, interpersonal relationships, etc. Just fiction! Title from You're Somebody Else by flora cash

It starts out as something almost imperceptible. Sapnap's visited Dream, and now he's... Weird. Spacey. George frowns.

"Sap, are you listening?" 

"Hm? Yeah, of course." 

"What did I just say, then?" 

"Uhh..." 

George sighs, tugging on the hem of his shirt once. He knows he hasn't been the most attentive recently, but it shouldn't give Sapnap the right to be a dick. They're not always the most romantic couple, but they love each other – they _listen_ to each other. 

"Yeah. That's what I thought." 

"I'm sorry," Sapnap says, eyes wide and apologetic, "I just... I feel... Kinda weird." 

The mild anger fades instantly. "What's wrong?" 

"I don't... I don't know. It's like I'm... Detached, or something." 

"Like... Dissociation, or...?" 

"I mean, I guess?" 

"Why didn't you say so?" George says, the faux irritation he usually slips into to cover how much he cares colouring his voice. 

"Sorry, Georgie," Sapnap apologises again, looking contrite, "I think I just need a day in, y’know? Couch and cuddles?" 

"God, you're clingy," George complains fondly. It's his way of saying yes, and the incident ends up all but forgotten when they fall asleep on each other as a song plays from the jukebox. 

* * *

It's a little embarrassing how long it takes Sapnap to realise that he's losing time. It's mostly little bits and pieces here and there to start with. Soon, though, it escalates, and he blinks at midday only to find himself in the exact same spot at sunset. That's the day that George really starts to worry. 

"We were supposed to have lunch, and instead you don't know where you were for eight hours? Sapnap, that's... That’s kind of messed up." 

"I know," Sapnap says, tears pricking at his eyes, "I think there's something, like... Really wrong with me." 

George is quiet for a moment, tapping at his communicator. Then, having apparently received the reply he was hoping for, he grabs Sapnap's hand and pulls him up from the chair he's slumped into. 

"Come on. We're going to see Puffy." 

"What? Why?" 

"She's got that therapy office, remember? She said she'd talk to you even though it’s getting late." 

Sapnap's miserable enough that he doesn't crack any of the jokes he normally would about being surprised that George knows what anyone at all is up to with how little he's around anyone but Sapnap himself, or George not having any idea what late really is because his sleep schedule is so far out of sync. He can't even bring himself to argue that he doesn't need therapy; if Puffy can work out what's wrong with him, it's worth it. Instead, he just follows George quietly out of their shared house and down to the Prime Path. He remains silent all the way Puffy's office, and it's clear from the way George glances at him with slightly pursed lips and a furrowed brow at how often he stumbles over his own feet that his boyfriend is worried. 

By the time they get there, Puffy's already waiting in the reception area. She looks a little concerned herself, presumably because of George's message being short and to the point. George shuts the door behind himself and the three of them share of moment of looking at each other. Puffy breaks the silence first. 

"Hey, guys. George, are you good to wait out here?" 

The man glances at Sapnap, clearly hoping for reassurance that that's the right thing to do. In response he receives a small, uncertain nod. He lets go of Sapnap's hand, and a small wave of fear runs through the younger at the loss of the comforting touch. 

"I'll be right out here if you need me," George says. He's trying to sound as flippant as he usually does, but it doesn't quite work. 

Puffy ushers Sapnap into the office itself, closing the door gently but firmly behind her. The mild terror fills Sapnap again as he's truly separated from George. He slides into the seat Puffy gestures at, then waits for her to set herself up behind the desk with a notepad and pen. Then he waits a little more. The absence of sound is stifling, but he can't bring himself to speak. 

"George said some worrying stuff in his message," she says eventually. 

"Yeah," Sapnap croaks out, "I guess so." 

"He didn't give me many details, though. Can you fill me in a bit?" Her voice is gentle and kind, and the floodgates open. 

"It's... I don't feel like myself. I don't know what I'm doing half the time. Sometimes I'll just, like, blink and I'll be somewhere else. Or suddenly I'm stood somewhere hours later than it should be, and I don't understand how it took so long just standing there. I've been sleeping more, but I feel even more tired when I get up. And I'm worrying George, and I feel worse for that, but I can't fix it because I don't know what's happening! And I can't even ask anyone I'm friends with, because Karl's always gone, and Quackity's off doing his own shit, and Dream's–" He cuts himself off. 

Puffy looks mildly pained at the mention of Dream, and that's when Sapnap remembers her referring to him as her duckling. He winces slightly internally. All of the things that Dream's done keep resurfacing when he least expects them too. Dream's hurt so many people that it's surprising they didn't all turn against him earlier. 

_Is he really that bad though?_ says a snide voice in his head. _He understands you, you love him._

"Are you dreaming when you sleep?" Puffy asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

"I don't..." 

With a jolt, he sees an scene, a flash, the sight of lava and obsidian and a white mask, the crooning of a familiar voice. 

_"So good to me, Sap. I'll be with you soon, don't you worry."_

He blinks hard, letting out an involuntary gasp. He's shuddering, shivering, shaking. His grip on the arms of the chair is tight, knuckles pale. There's ice in his veins despite the sweat beading on his forehead. 

"Sapnap? Are you okay? Did you remember something? Sapnap!" 

"I can't... No! No!" he pants out, eyes darting back and forth. "No, no, no, no..." 

He doesn't even register Puffy calling George into the room. He's clammy. There's something deeply, deeply wrong here. He can't get any air into his lungs, he's a fish out of water, he's never been so afraid. 

"Sapnap," Puffy says sternly. It's the severity of her tone that breaks through his panic. He snaps his gaze to her. "Breathe with me. We're gonna do some square breathing, alright? In for four, hold for four, out for four, wait for four. Okay? Let's go." 

He can't quite manage it, but he tries. Losing himself in the numbers seems to be the way to go, so he pushes the counting as far as he can. He counts the time of each breath like he's supposed to, but he also counts the number of times he does it, and on top of that he ticks off approximate seconds. When he's a lot calmer, George's voice, soft and careful, floats to his ears. 

"Am I good to touch you, Sap?" 

Sapnap nods jerkily. To start with, it's just a hand, burning hot and freezing cold at the same time, touching his arm gently. From there, the contact increases slowly as George begins to wind himself around Sapnap, constricting in the most comforting way. It takes several more minutes before he's even close to speech, and even then, it comes out as if each word has to be physically shoved out of him. 

"'M sorry." 

"You don't need to be sorry," George tells him. Its clear he means it, but there's also something Sapnap's missing. He can tell from the way George and Puffy exchange a look. 

"W-what?" he forces out. 

"Sapnap, your eyes... They turned green. I mean, like... Y'know Eret's eyes? The way they don't have have pupils? Like that, but fully green. And, like, glowing." Puffy sounds much more shaky now that she's not trying to calm him down. 

Sapnap doesn't even know what to say to that. "H-how? Why? What?" 

"I think we were hoping you could tell us," Puffy says, "But I... I'm not sure this is a therapy thing. Honestly, I'm sort of convinced you need an exorcist or something." 

An... Exorcist? Sapnap blinks once, remembering green uniforms and Tubbo and Fundy and... _No_. It feels like his brain shuts off forcefully at whatever the last thing was going to be. The thread of thought is already gone, a fragile wisp in the wind. He doesn't want to wonder why, and he doesn't even want to know why he isn't questioning it. It feels like that should be wrong, but only distantly. 

"I... I'll work it out, then," he feels himself stammering out without even meaning to, "But thanks for trying, Puffy. Seriously." 

"Yeah, of course," she says, sincerely but still clearly a little unsettled, "You know how to find me if you need me." 

"Thanks, Puffy," George chimes in. He slides his hand into Sapnap's. It feels a little weird – public displays of affection aren't usually George's thing, even if he's more willing to be clingy in private. Clearly, George is just as shaken as the other two. "We should probably go, then." 

"Yeah," Sapnap agrees, almost instinctively, "Uh. Bye." 

They're silent the whole way home, George's vicelike grip on his arm somehow comforting and disconcerting at the same time. They're halfway ready for bed by the time George speaks. 

"You really scared me," he admits quietly, "I didn't know what was wrong." 

"I'm sorry," Sapnap replies. His tone is almost reverent; he cherishes these moments with George, when it's just the two of them in their own little bubble. 

"Do you... I don't know who we can talk to," George admits. 

"Me neither." 

"We'll work it out," George promises. 

That's the last either of them say that night. Even after the light's off and George's soft breathing fills the room as the two lie intertwined, Sapnap can't work out why he feels like he's lying. 

* * *

He wakes up in a place he doesn't recognise. He's not tied to anything, not bound in place, but he can't move. Maybe it's more that he doesn't want to move, but that doesn't make sense. He doesn't know where he is, why wouldn't he want himself to move? 

"Because I don't want you to. After all, you wouldn't want to disappoint me, would you, Pandas?" 

Sapnap's eyes dart over to the source of the voice. His blood chills in his veins even as his heart leaps in excitement. Wait – his heart fucking _what_? 

"D-Dream?" 

"There we go," Dream coos. It feels wrong, nothing like the Dream he's known for so long or even the Dream they'd confronted that day, but it also feels right, settling over him like a blanket. "I missed you." 

"I missed you too," Sapnap replies automatically. Then he flinches. "Wait, no. I didn't mean..." 

"It's okay," Dream says smoothly, "I know what you meant." 

"Yeah, well, can you fill me in, then?" Sapnap snaps. 

"You don't want to talk to me like that." 

It's said calmly. The thing is, though, that he's right. Of course Sapnap doesn't want to talk to Dream like that. Why would he? Dream... Dream is... 

Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no. 

"What did you do to me?" He can't muster up the anger he wants behind it – after all, _he doesn't want to talk to Dream like that_. Instead, he just sounds a little curious, in a detached sort of way. 

"You always were smarter than anyone gave you credit for," Dream says, "Even me. I worked it out in the end, though. I'm the only one who sees it. I'm the only one who knows you, Sap." 

"No," Sapnap denies, "No. George..." 

"George doesn't matter, Sapnap!" Dream insists. "And you don't care about him either." 

"I do," Sapnap mumbles, then forces his voice out more loudly even as his ears start to ring, "I do! I _love_ him, Dream." 

"I think you’re confused," Dream says smoothly, "Because you love _me_ , right, Sap?" 

"I... Yeah. No!" 

"You love me," Dream repeats, "And George is nothing to you. He failed us both at every turn. He couldn't even bring himself to fight against me, not like you did, so strong and brave and _perfect_." 

"Stop it." He says it weakly, more like a gentle plea than a command. 

Dream grips his chin, tilting his head up so their eyes meet. _When did Dream take off his mask?_ It doesn't really matter, because his irises are a beautiful green, mesmerising, enchanting, and Sapnap never wants to look away from them. 

"You love me, Sapnap. Remember?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." 

It's true. He does. He never wants to do anything else. He never wants to love anyone else. He never _has_ loved anyone else. He's Dream's, after all, and that's all he is. 

* * *

Each day, more questions arise than are answered, and each day, Sapnap cares about that just a little bit less. To start with, he just wants to know how he got here. 

"You walked to me, Sap, just like you were supposed to." 

After that, he doesn't really want to ask anything, and he tells himself firmly that it's not out of fear that he'll actually get an answer. He's too comfortable floating through his days wrapped in Dream's arms. Until, that is, he sees Ranboo walk through the door carrying a bag of items. The bag is placed on the floor in front of Dream's feels, and the man peers into it. He's clearly satisfied, because he gives a sharp smile. He never wears his mask around the house (Sapnap feels like calling it home is a betrayal of... of something) anymore, and Ranboo's appearance doesn't seem to have changed that. 

"Good job," says Dream, matter-of-factly, "Go back to what you were doing and forget about this. And remember, same time next week." 

Ranboo says nothing, simply staring for a moment before giving a single nod and walking back out the way he came. Sapnap gazes after him until the doors block him from sight. It’s piqued his curiosity enough that it breaks through his hazy existence. 

"Why... You... Ranboo?" His thoughts aren't falling into sentences in quite the way he wants them to, but Dream understands anyway, as he always does. 

"He was easier than you, Pandas. He forgets so much that it was easy to slide into the gaps. Not that he's anything special. You, though... I've been working on you for so long, and it's so hard to do from a distance. I was so happy when you came to see me. It was the missing piece. It let me finish what I'd started." 

Unbidden, a scene – a memory? – forms in Sapnap's head. He's stood beside a tunnel emerging from under the prison. Dream and Ranboo are both approaching him, the former still masked but it's evident from just his posture alone that he's triumphant. The whole memory feels like autopilot, something that happened to somebody else. It may as well have – the person who, based on that snapshot, freed Dream from the prison wasn't Sapnap. Even with the vague feeling he gets sometimes that he isn't himself, he knows he isn't like that, either; he isn't the blank slate he feels in his memory. 

"I... I helped you escape." It isn't a question. 

"Just like I told you to," Dream agrees. 

"I still don't know what you've done to me," Sapnap says. He isn't angry about whatever it is, though. He could never be angry with Dream. 

"You don't need to." 

"I don't need to," Sapnap echoes. It feels right. ~~It feels hollow.~~

* * *

One night, he wakes up shaking, tears soaking his cheeks. He knows he's been dreaming, and somehow even as the images fade from his mind, he remembers feeling safe. He doesn't know where he got that feeling; he can't remember having it. He grasps feebly within his own brain for the pictures, the sensation of a warm body curled up beside him in a way that Dream's just... _isn't_. George. How could he forget the way he feels about George? 

Trying to hold onto his... his _George_ just makes him feel sick. It's not repulsion, which is his first thought – no, it's like his head is fighting against itself, trying to push the emotion away. Dream stirs next to him, and Sapnap feels a sudden surge of true, deep loathing. It's gone as quickly as it came, and his thoughts of George are going almost as fast. Dream, though, sits up beside him, a look of quiet fury on his face. 

"What are you doing, Sapnap?" he asks, somehow tranquil and incensed at the same time. 

"I'm so confused," Sapnap half-moans. It _hurts_ , all of this back and forth in his head. 

"Oh, my poor, sweet thing," Dream murmurs, the anger gone in an instant, "It's him, isn't it? Is he ruining this for us?" 

"I want George," whispers Sapnap, "Please. I want George. Let me go home." 

"You _are_ home," Dream tells him, grasping his face with one hand and guiding his gaze so their eyes lock as they had the day Sapnap had woken up here. 

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm home." Sapnap's voice is dull. "I'm home. I'm home here. Can I go home, please?" 

Dream lets out a displeased noise, dropping his grip on Sapnap's chin. "What the hell am I doing _wrong_?" 

"Nothing," Sapnap says on autopilot, "Nothing. You haven't done anything wrong." 

"We were so _fucking_ close," Dream hisses. He takes a deep breath. "Hm. Get up." 

"Get-? Dream, it's 3AM..." 

"Can you get up for me, please, sweetheart?" Dream asks. There’s a notable strain creeping into his voice as he aims for gentleness. 

"M'kay." 

Sapnap doesn't think any more about it. Dream's asked him to get up. He swings his legs out of bed, stumbling to his feet and rubbing sleep and the stinging remainder of tears from his eyes. He follows his- his- He follows _Dream_ down the stairs, sitting himself on the couch Dream points him to. The elder pulls a chair up and sits directly opposite him. 

"I know how I can help you," Dream tells him softly, "I can make it not hurt anymore." 

"No," Sapnap half-slurs, "Want Georgie." 

"It's his own fault." Dream's voice is still measured, still calm. "He could have come too, I'd have been happy to have him, if he hadn't taken what was mine. All he had to do was keep his hands to himself, and he couldn't even do that." 

"What was yours? What d'you mean? He's- He was your _friend_ , Dream, your best friend..." 

"He took _you_!" Suddenly, Dream's back on his feet, running an aggravated hand through his hair. "You're _mine_ , Sapnap, you always have been! He stole you from me." 

The buzzing in Sapnap's head is reaching a crescendo. He's so confused. It hurts watching the man he loves like this. But... George. The one he loves is George, even though something inside is screaming that he shouldn't. 

"Please," he whispers, "Please don't be mad." 

He hates feeling so much like he's weak, like he's falling apart. His head is so painful he's half convinced he's dying. Dream sighs, looking at him, then slowly sits back down. 

"Okay," he says quietly, "Okay. We can fix this. But you need to work with me." 

"Anything," Sapnap croaks, "Just make it stop." 

"That's good," Dream tells him, and the praise makes Sapnap shudder as Dream rests his fingertips on each of Sapnap's temples, "Let's start." 

* * *

_Sapnap is stood in a house. He knows this place, decorated with pictures of Karl and Quackity and Sapnap himself and, most importantly, George. There’s another photo he knows is here, too, hidden away in shame for if by some unlikely chance somebody comes knocking, showing Dream wrapped in between Sapnap and George. George's guitar lies in the corner, all but unused._

‘Forget him.’ 

_"What?"_

‘Forget him.’ 

_"Wh-? No!"_

‘You don't need him, Sapnap.’ 

_"Stop it!"_

‘I'm all you ever need.’ 

_"D-Dream? Is that...?" The voice echoing in his head is becoming increasingly familiar. He doesn't understand what's happening._

‘Listen to me. Forget him. Forget George.’ 

_"I don't want to..."_

‘You promised me, Sapnap. You said anything.’ 

_"I... I did?"_

‘You did, sweetheart. You're so good, only for me.’ 

_"I'm... Good?"_

‘So good. Now, forget.’ 

_Sapnap blinks. Didn’t there... There was a guitar in the corner just now. He's sure of it. He doesn't know whose it was, though. It can't have been important. He glances at his surroundings. There's a picture beside him, showing Sapnap next to someone who's looking at him with a look that somehow conveys both deep irritation and utter adoration. Somebody... He knows... It's on the tip of his tongue, his insides jolting pleasantly at the image of the man. It's... It..._

_George._

_How could he forget George?_

‘It's for the best, Pandas.’ 

_The voice is like honey in his ears, dripping in and enveloping his thoughts in a sweet stickiness. He blinks again. Surely... He knows he was looking at a photograph, but... There's nothing there._

‘Forget him.’ 

_"I don't want to," Sapnap insists. He doesn't even know who he's talking about. They're important, though. He wants to keep them._

‘Forget him.’ 

_The buzzing is deafening, it's tearing him apart, and then– Nothing. He forces his eyes open, not having realised he'd shut them. He's stood in a blank space, empty, and it feels like there's something missing. He doesn't know what._

‘Good. Well done, sweetheart.’ 

_"Dream?" Sapnap's voice is shaking. A single tear is drying on his cheek. He isn't sure why._

‘I'm here. I'm here for you. You're mine.’ 

_"I'm yours," Sapnap agrees._

‘I love you.’ 

_"You love me."_

‘You love me.’ 

_"I love you."_

* * *

"Sapnap? Are you with me?" 

Sapnap jolts where he's sat. "I... Dream?" 

"Are you okay?" 

Dream looks concerned. Of course he does – he loves Sapnap. If something’s wrong... 

"I... Yeah. What were we talking about?" 

"Nothing important," Dream assures him, "Let's just go back to bed." 

"Yeah," Sapnap says, dazed, "Okay. Bed." 

He staggers up the stairs, Dream's hand ever so slightly too tight in his own. He's back under the covers within minutes, his body as burning hot as always, but he still feels so cold. 

"I love you, Sap," Dream murmurs beside him, "You love me too, right?" 

"I love you too," he agrees. 

Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right. 

* * *

Things get better from there. It must be better – Dream's told him it is. The days go on, and Sapnap fixes himself. He really should have noticed how much he’d been doing wrong long before poor Dream had had to point it all out. He doesn't quite remember what all of the problems had been, but he's done it all. Anything for Dream. 

_"You don't need to be so tense when I'm near you, Pandas."_

_"I know you'd rather hear this from me than anybody else, it's just... Maybe you should try being just a little quieter."_

_"But you love cooking for me, right, sweetheart?"_

_"It might be good if you weren't quite so... I don't know, crude?"_

Sapnap's much better now, he knows it. He cleans the house and cooks the food that Dream brings back for them from the very short trips he takes into the forest beside them, and he curls up on the sofa with Dream as they cuddle, Dream reading to him from a book that he knows he loves but he doesn't know why. He kisses Dream sweetly and smiles at him softly and speaks in gentle tones. He's so, so much better than he was when... when something. He isn't sure what, but he's sure he's his best self when he's with Dream. 

He _has_ to be his best self, if he's going to be worthy. 

_"I'm your God, Sapnap. Remember that."_

Dream is his God, and Sapnap's every action is crafted to worship him. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude: what's George been up to this whole time?

The first morning is calm. George wakes up alone, the blazing heat of his partner absent from the bed. He sighs, turning over. Sapnap does this sometimes, leaving early in the morning to do chores, or to meet with Karl or Quackity; for that matter, George does the same just as often. As much as they and their friends all love each other, they value one on one meetings as well as spending time as a group. Besides, after the night before, it would make sense if Sapnap wants to get some normalcy. So George goes about his day. He doesn't have much to do, but he makes some bread and, feeling adventurous, even risks making a cake he can share with Sapnap that evening. It comes out a little flat and slightly too solid, and the icing is uneven and gooey, but Sap will eat it anyway – he always does when George dares to venture into the kitchen.

The cake goes uneaten. 

George worries when Sapnap doesn't arrive home that night, and by the time he hasn't made contact for a full day, the panic is setting in. He starts by contacting Karl and Quackity, and when neither of them have seen Sapnap, he branches out, talking to Bad and Punz over his communicator as he hauls himself over to the Prime Path, eyes searching desperately. It's when he makes it as far as the prison that things get dire. 

Sam and Ant are stood by the side of the water that surrounds the building, faces set sternly. George is about to get their attention when Ant speaks. 

"Sam, staring at it for even longer won't help. We need different leads." 

"What's wrong?" George asks. He’s got his own concerns, but Sam looks both furious and incredibly anxious, which definitely isn't a good thing when combined with where they are. 

Sam whirls on him. "Did you know about this?" 

"Know about what?" 

Deflating a little bit, Sam lets out a sigh. "Dream's gone." 

"What? How?" George exclaims, paling a little. Then he realises how stupid the question is as he looks toward what the other two had been staring at. It's the end of a tunnel emerging from under the water below the prison. "Uh, right." 

"George, what are you doing this far out?" Ant asks. 

George feels his own face fall even further. "You're not the only ones looking for someone. I can't find Sap. Have you seen him?" 

"When did you last see him?" Sam's eyes narrow a little. 

"The night before last, why?" George tells him without thinking. Within moments, it dawns on him. "Wait, you don't seriously think Sapnap had anything to do with this?" 

"The times match up, George," Ant says cautiously, "Dream's been gone for a whole day already." 

"And you didn't tell everyone?" George demands. 

"Don't change the subject," Sam barks out. 

"I'm not! Sap didn't do it!" 

"You were all best friends," comes the growled response. 

"That doesn't change anything! It wasn't Sapnap. He doesn't want Dream out!" George knows that very well. Even when one of them has a bad day, thinking of what things had been like being friends with Dream before it had all gone so horribly wrong, Sapnap stands firm in his belief that Dream deserves to be in the prison. As bad as he feels admitting it, George is far less passionate about Dream being punished than Sapnap is; he knows logically what Dream did, but he doesn't involve himself when he can avoid it and all of it just feels that bit less immediate to him. If either of them were to try and break Dream out, it would be him, and even then, he doesn't particularly want to. 

Sam still doesn't look convinced. "Well, either way, we haven't seen him." 

"If you do, ask him... Can you ask him to come home? He's been... He's not been well recently. I'm worried." 

Despite Sam's scepticism, a concerned look flashes across his face. Ant's expression shows that he's clearly troubled to hear George's words as well. After a moment of hesitation, Ant speaks. 

"What's wrong?" 

"We don't know," George admits, "But it's bad. And kind of messed up, to be honest." 

"Is there anything that would help?" 

"I don't think so. But I need to find him first, anyway." 

"Let us know if you think of anything," Sam says. He sounds the most normal he has since George arrived. Then his tone hardens. "Well, since he isn't here, you should probably go. We need to work. If you see Bad, ask him to get over here. I think this is an all-hands situation. But don't go spreading it around." 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." 

George doesn't find Sapnap that day. He sleeps in Karl and Quackity's arms, the two of them having invited themselves over when it became clear that something was seriously wrong, and he can't even bring himself to shove them off him. He's too busy missing the excessive warmth of Sapnap's body beside him. 

Sam had had a point though. The warden's suspicions play on a loop in his head until he's almost believing them himself. Dream had been their best friend before all of this... No. There's no way. After everything, Sapnap just wouldn't. Even if he did, he'd have said something to George. There’s no way he'd do this alone. 

* * *

The days drag on into weeks, and the weeks turn into two months. News spreads of Dream's escape, just as it does of Sapnap's disappearance. Half the server is convinced that they've missed a death message caused by Dream after his breakout, the other half seems certain that Sapnap had been in on the whole thing. Even Karl and Quackity have returned to their own home, leaving George alone in a painfully empty house. George finds himself promising whatever deity truly exists out there that he'll be kinder to Sapnap when he returns, that he won't rely on bickering to show his love. 

The real, heart-breaking breakthrough comes on an unassuming Tuesday. George is in the kitchen, staring at the sandwich which Puffy had come round to make for him. The two of them have been talking a little more recently; she'd messaged him the second she'd heard, apologising for being unable to do more when they'd met. He knows she's therapising him half the time, but he can't quite bring himself to care. He's stuck in a routine of sleeping badly and eating badly and wandering the server increasingly desperately, travelling further and further away from spawn to try and find Sapnap, and although Puffy's eyes are sad when they rest upon him, she doesn't bother him about his newly-acquired unhealthy habits like Karl and Q do, or suggest that it might be time to move on and give up the way Punz does despite his guilty expression. George is finally bringing the food to his mouth when there's a knock on the door. 

"I'll get it," Puffy says, "And whenever I bring whoever it is in here, you'd better have taken that bite, so help me, God." 

George does as instructed. When Puffy returns, the guest is an unexpected one. Ranboo is trailing behind her, rubbing at one arm nervously. He looks even more anxious than he usually does, and even his lanky half-enderman form looks thinner than it should be. It makes George think that he might not be the only one not eating properly. Seeing Ranboo is a surprise; they've never really spoken given George's tendency to stay in the Kinoko Kingdom if he even ventures out at all, and as far as George is aware, even Tubbo is hearing less from the younger man at the moment. 

"Ranboo," he says, voice cracking a little before he adds, slightly stupidly, "I wasn't expecting you." 

"Yeah, no, that's... That makes sense, actually," responds Ranboo. It sounds sheepish, but there's an undertone of something else. He rubs his arm slightly harder. 

"Is everything... Are you okay?" George asks awkwardly. He's never been great at comforting people he isn't already exceptionally close to, but he feels like he should try. 

"Um, no." It's more honest than George is prepared for, and he shoots a desperate look at Puffy. 

She jumps in on his behalf valiantly. "What's going on?" 

"I, uh, well, I think... I think there's something I might be able to help with." 

George's heart, in some weird contradictory manner, sinks and rises at the same time. There's only one thing that people on the server would offer help with now. 

"What do you know?" He can't help the aching eagerness in his voice. At this point, it feels like everybody thinks he's crazy to keep hoping he'll find Sapnap. Anything Ranboo can offer that's helpful... 

"I just... I really... I..." Ranboo's clearly struggling to get his words out. "I need to... I just want to start by saying I really didn't want to." 

Oh, God. He's going to be sick. 

"Ranboo," Puffy begins cautiously, "What didn't you want to do?" 

Ranboo looks like he's on the verge of tears. "I... I don't even know how he did it, I didn't want to, but I _did_ , I wanted to so badly..." 

" _What_ didn't you want to do, Ranboo?" George repeats Puffy's words, anxiously impatient. 

"I helped Dream escape from the prison, and I've been helping him keep Sapnap hidden." 

"You _what_?" Puffy exclaims. 

George can't even say anything. _Dream_ did this? With _Ranboo_? The memory of the jokes he's made before about breaking his former best friend out sour in his memory immediately. He swallows down the lump in his throat, and when the words bubble out, it's in the form of rage. 

"What the hell–? Why would–? You don't even have a reason to help him! What did he do to Sap?" 

"I'm sorry," Ranboo whispers. The tears finally spill down his cheeks, giving a soft hiss as they make contact with his skin. "He did something, I didn't have a choice. I couldn't do anything until he'd spent too long focusing on Sapnap." 

"Ranboo, what does that mean?" Puffy's alarm is apparent. It's a good question; George finds himself wishing he were in a good enough mindset to think of it himself. 

"I don't know! I don't know," Ranboo cries, "I just... I had to do what he told me to!" 

"What... What did you mean about him focusing on Sapnap?" George manages to croak out past his tied tongue. He knows what Dream had said to Tommy all that time ago, his denial of attachment, but this is the first time he's really experienced it himself. Dream clearly doesn't care about George, as much as he'd not wanted to believe it. Sapnap, though, is a different story. Whatever Dream's done to Sapnap, George is certain his boyfriend hadn't wanted it. 

Ranboo rubs his sleeve across his face, desperately trying to get the water away from the blistered red streaks marring it. He takes a shuddering breath. "Whatever he'd done to me... The more he did it to Sapnap, the more intense he got, the less control he had over me. He's been spending all of his time doing whatever it is to Sapnap and I guess he just forgot about me, and it was better when I was further away anyway, and I... I knew I had to tell you. I'm so, so sorry." 

George wrestles down his unfair fury. It's not Ranboo's fault, from the sound of it. It doesn't stop the unkind desire to scream at him, shake him, blame him for not saying something sooner. He runs a hand through his hair, setting his face grimly. 

"I'm sorry to do this to you, but you need to tell the others." 

"What?" Ranboo sounds horrified. He swallows hard. "Is that... Will that help? Is this punishment?" 

"I'm not punishing you, Ranboo. They need to know because we're going to get Sapnap back." 

After all, it's been far too long since George had a say in the server's events.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now everyone knows what Dream's been up to, or at least they have an idea... All that's left is to do something about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it! The final chapter! I've never done a chaptered work before, so this was fun. Thanks for sticking around!

Every day is the same. At this point, Sapnap's used to the routine. He relishes it, any opportunity to worship Dream in whatever way feels right. Chores, cuddles, reading together, whatever Dream wants. When he sleeps, sometimes, he sees the images of people he feels he should know, laughing and joking. He tells Dream about it whenever he wakes, as he's supposed to, and Dream reassures him of the unreality of his thoughts. He's lucky to have a God who cares about him so much.

The day the peace shatters starts as expected. They make it past lunch before things spiral out of control, and Sapnap continues wandering through his day. The unexpected bang of the door opening splits the silence like a knife through butter. Dream's immediately on guard. 

"Stay behind me, Pandas," he says softly, "Something’s wrong. I'll keep you safe." 

Sapnap does as Dream tells him. He doesn't know how to fight, he never has – Dream's told him so often, and he has no chance if it comes down to a physical altercation. When Dream procures an axe he's seemingly had nearby, his mask fixed firmly onto his face, Sapnap can't help his minor flinch backwards. It feels like muscle memory, but he can't quite piece it together. 

They start to move slowly, silently, through the house. They're outside before they come face to face with a young man dressed in a blue jacket and a beanie with a jagged scar crossing his eye on its way down his face; it's surprising they even made it this far unseen, if Sapnap’s honest with himself. 

"Jesus Christ!" the man yelps, tightening his grip on the axe in his hand. 

The cry seems to have alerted an alarmingly large group. Sapnap's amazed at the number of individuals they've evaded on their way out of the house – it's astonishing that that many people fitted inside. After all, it's not the world's smallest house, but it's not overly large, either. Several figures are emerging from the woods as well, encircling the two of them. Sapnap discretely slides his hand to grip on the sleeve of Dream's jacket. 

"Sapnap!" 

Pushing through from the back is a dark haired man, somehow looking simultaneously panicked and relieved. He's the most beautiful man Sapnap can remember seeing. The speed at which he's approaching, though, is unsettlingly surprising. Sapnap tucks himself more firmly behind Dream, glancing towards the masked figure for guidance. Making a decision on what to do seems like an impossible task, and Dream always knows what's best. The movement seems to leave everybody thrown for a loop as the approaching figure stops in his tracks. Dream hesitates for a moment, then speaks softly, having apparently reached a decision. 

"It's okay, Pandas. You can talk to them." 

The permission is a relief: it feels like a knot's loosened ever so slightly in his chest. He still doesn't quite know what to say, though. The need to be the next to say something vanishes when the scarred man speaks. 

"Shut the fuck up, Dream! It's not your job to tell him when he can talk!" 

"Please," Sapnap whispers, "Stop." 

There's nothing else he can say, nothing he can do. He's powerless. It feels like his heart is brittle, hesitating on the edge of shattering. He can't help Dream, but he can't lose him either. Not when Dream is everything to him, everything he could ask for, everything he needs. 

"Sap," the stunning man says quietly, "Just come over here. We can go home." 

Dream's reciprocating the touch Sapnap had initiated, fingers encircling his wrist. It makes Sapnap feels slightly more confident in the words he isn't worthy of saying, blessed by his God. 

"I don't want to go with you. I don't even know you." 

* * *

At his words, the already-silent group seems to become even more muted. A pink-haired woman lets out a soft gasp, and beside her a man in a multicoloured hoodie gives a matching sharp inhale. Sapnap's attention, though, is trained on the man right in front of him. He looks... He looks heartbroken. Something about that expression sends a pang of emotion – what is it, empathy? – to Sapnap's own chest. 

"He's mine, George," Dream hisses. The malevolence is sudden, disorientating, unsettling. It feels like Sapnap's veins have turned to ice. "He doesn't want to go anywhere with you." 

Dream pushes it onto him by accident, but it's too strong. It's too much. Feeling like it starts in the fingers wrapped around his arm, a warm feeling spreads through Sapnap's whole body. The sensation whispers along his synapses, tingling on his tongue and in his mind. 

"I don't want to go anywhere with you," he repeats, vacant eyes fixed on the man Dream had called George, voice hollowed out. His heart is pounding, thrumming a rhythm of _Dream, Dream, Dream_ through his body. There isn't anyone else. There isn't anything else. Just Dream, his God, his everything. It barely registers when his legs fold under him as he slumps to the ground, landing in a kneeling position in an uncomfortable parody of prayer. 

"Sapnap!" George cries out. 

The name washes over its owner like a wave on a beach, lapping at the very edge of his consciousness, but it doesn't quite compute. His mind is a mess of ~~commands~~ suggestions, things he's heard, the foundations of his very being. All he hears is his deity's voice ringing in his ears as murmurs of earlier instructions loop. Dream's hand has slipped from his skin and left him alone in a sea of uncertainty. A distantly familiar buzzing is surfacing in the depths. 

"Jesus," someone says softly, "Look at his eyes..." 

"Get away from him," orders a stern voice. It comes from a creeper hybrid grasping a trident. It dimly registers that the weapon is pointed at Dream, but there's nothing Sapnap can do; he can't move, let alone help his God. 

Dream's impassive mask does nothing to hide the anger in his voice. "What will you do if I don't? Kill me? You've already proven that none of you will do that! And what other options do you have? Sending me back to that fucking hellhole?" 

"Yes," the man says through gritted teeth, "And this time, trust me when I say that nobody's coming anywhere near you." 

The feral snarl that escapes Dream as he flings himself at the creeper hybrid is terrifying even through the haze of Sapnap's persisting lack of response. His axe meets the trident with a clang and the remainder of the group leaps into action. The majority of them have drawn their own weapons, brandishing them at Dream, but a small group have moved instead towards Sapnap. George (had that been his name?) is foremost amongst them, but the two who had gasped earlier are by his side as well. 

"Sap?" George asks, voice cracking slightly despite its softness. 

When there's no response, the other man speaks slightly more urgently. "C'mon, Sapnap!" 

"Karl!" George hisses, somehow managing to remain quiet and unintimidating while scolding his friend. 

The attempt at conversation is cut short by an angry yell. Dream's grabbed one of his attackers, brandishing the axe at the boy's throat, which is exposed by Dream's grip on his hair tilting his head back. 

"I only ever wanted what was best for you all, I wanted _peace_ on this damn server, but you clearly don't want it. So, here's my offer. You give me Sapnap, you let us leave, I'll give Tommy back," Dream says. 

"You bitch!" shouts Tommy. "How about you let me go and we'll throw you back in the fucking prison?" 

There's a moment of silence. Then, unexpectedly, Tommy viciously drives a small blade into Dream's leg. The latter lets out a furious scream of pain, fumbling with his weapon just enough to allow the boy to slip from his grasp. Before Dream can recover, the axe is plucked from him by a demonic figure as the creeper hybrid seizes his arms, binding them together behind him. 

"Sam, I swear, if you don't get off me–" 

"You'll what?" the man who seems to be Sam interrupts. "Because I don't see you doing anything to all of us successfully in the time it takes us to get you back in that prison and shut away. And trust me, nobody's coming in this time, not even me." 

"Ranboo said not to let him speak," a curly haired, horned woman reminds Sam, receiving a curt nod in response. There’s a strangely melancholy expression on her face. 

"You think that's enough?" Dream spits out. "I know more than any of you. He _needs_ me now, he's _mine_! You thought the only thing in that book was reanimation? That's barely long enough for a damn pamphlet!" 

"Dude, shut the hell up," says a blonde man disgustedly. The chain around his neck gleams in the light as he shoves a wad of fabric up under the mask and into Dream's mouth, muffling the incoming diatribe before he, Sam, the demon and a cat begin attempting to escort their captive away. 

They've barely managed to move Dream a step when Sapnap bolts to his feet. George and Karl have their arms wrapped around him in an instant, holding him back as he strains to reach his deity. Dream lets out a clearly audible, somewhat hysterical laugh behind the gag in his mouth. 

"No!" Sapnap rasps out, trying to scream without raising his voice. ~~Dream doesn't like it when he's loud~~. "No, please, _please_ , Dream, _no_ , I _need_ him, please..." 

It's only once Dream is out of sight that he abandons his struggle. He crumbles to the floor once again, collapsing in the arms of someone he doesn't know like a marionette with his strings cut, and sobs. 

* * *

He doesn't remember moving. He doesn't remember passing out, either. Despite that, he wakes up in a bed, surrounded by people he feels like he knows but he can't quite reach the information. They were there... Fighting Dream. Somehow that memory isn't as repulsive as it feels like it should be. Most of them are asleep, passed out in varying uncomfortable positions. There’s a kid with black and white hair and a suit who definitely hadn't been there when everything happened who's curled up on the floor. The curly haired woman is also huddled up as she sleeps, but she's on an armchair and squashed into the seat. The hoodie guy – Karl – is lying with his head in the lap of the man with the scarred face, which would probably be more comfortable if he weren't partially contorted so as not to fall through the gap between his seat and the one his companion is sat on. 

The one called George is sat closest to the bed; he looks like he's fallen asleep solely because he couldn't stay awake any longer rather than as a conscious decision. His white goggles are sat endearingly lopsidedly on his head and his face is propped up precariously on his own arm. His spare hand is tangled loosely in Sapnap's, and Sapnap is incredibly confused to realise that he can't decide if he wants to pull away in revulsion or stay holding the man's hand forever. He settles for leaving it where it is, vowing to himself that he'll move if George wakes up. After all, there's no point in waking the other up. 

It's at that moment that he realises that he's missed something in his spot check. Two eyes, one sharp and one slightly damaged and unfocused, are fixed upon him. Other than the fingers running ever so gently through the hair of the man in his lap, the one watching him is barely moving – it isn't surprising that Sapnap had missed that he was awake the first time. 

"Hey," says the man, voice low so as not to wake the others in the room, "How are you doing?" 

"I want to go home," Sapnap replies honestly, matching the other for volume. Although it's definitely the truth, he isn't entirely sure where home is. Ostensibly, it's the house he's been living in with Dream, but there's something achingly familiar about the room he finds himself in now. He glances at George, and it's clearly not as subtle as he thinks it is. 

"He was really upset," the man informs him, and there’s nobody he can be talking about other than George, "After you, y’know, passed out. Do you really not remember him?" 

"I don't remember you, either. I don't know any of you." 

It's not intended to be mean, merely truthful, but it elicits a suppressed flinch anyway. "Ouch. Okay." 

"You... You seem nice, though," Sapnap ventures cautiously, "Can you... Can you take me back to him?" 

There's no doubt to be had regarding who he's talking about. The other man's face falls, leaving him swallowing uncomfortably as he searches for an answer. He's saved the difficulty when Karl stirs. 

"Quackity? What–?" He bolts upright as he catches sight of Sapnap. "You're awake!" 

From there, everything snowballs. The armchair wobbles as its occupant moves while she wakes, and the figure on the floor shuffles into a seated position, rubbing his eyes blearily. Beside Sapnap, George jumps so badly as he jerks awake that his head slips off his hand, leaving him barely able to stop himself from face-planting into the mattress in front of him. The door even opens a crack, revealing two curious lurking teenagers. 

"Sapnap!" George exclaims. 

Sapnap flinches involuntarily. Things shouldn't be loud. Dream wouldn't like it. Then he remembers that Dream isn't here with him, and he feels slightly sick. 

"Hi," he practically whispers in response. 

"I told you he'd be okay, Gogy," proclaims one of the teenagers in the doorway in a grandiose manner. It's the one Dream had held captive – Tommy. 

The boy's emphasis of certain words is unusual, ringing the faintest of bells through the stressing of odd syllables to the extent that it sounds like there's an extra separation in the nickname he uses, but more distressingly, he’s naturally loud. Sapnap doesn't think about it, instead clamping his hands over his ears. He needs it quiet. He needs to _be_ quiet. 

"Right," says Quackity, "Everyone get the fuck out." 

It's obvious from his concerned glance at Sapnap that he's worked out the basic sense of what's wrong. Everything had been so much during the confrontation that the auditory input had been pushed back on his radar in terms of things he was thinking about, but this? This is a lot, and Quackity's definitely seen how overwhelmed he is. George's brow furrows beside him. 

"I'm not going–" 

"Not you, you fucking idiot," Quackity sighs, somehow fond even as he rolls his eyes so hard it looks almost painful, "Stay here with him." 

The majority of the people file out silently. Even Tommy doesn't say anything further as the door clicks shut behind the last one to leave. Now, its just Sapnap and George. It feels right. It feels wrong. It's all... Very confusing. 

"You don't remember me, right?" George asks. He sounds almost muted, like he's trying to hide how unhappy he is. 

"No." 

"I'm George." 

"I know." 

"So you remember something, at least?" 

Sapnap feels bad for crushing the man's excitement. "Dream called you that." 

"Oh. Right." George's sudden loss of enthusiasm sends a pang through Sapnap's heart. He gathers himself quickly, though. "Well, you might remember soon. Ranboo said that being away from him longer helps." 

"But I don't _want_ to," Sapnap stresses, tears pricking his eyes. Why won't anyone listen to him? "I just want Dream." 

George's face pinches. "You shouldn't." 

"It feels weird," Sapnap confesses quietly, "Hearing you say bad things about him." 

"Because you're not supposed to, right?" It's a perceptive guess, but it's not the whole truth. 

"I mean, yeah. But also... It feels like that just isn't something you do, you know? Like you don't usually say it." 

As George's face twists further, what feels like a jolt of electricity courses through Sapnap's body. The room blurs briefly as a scene forms in his mind, recreating a conversation which he feels must be one he’d had. 

_"I can't fucking believe it," Sapnap spits out, "You should have seen it. An entire hall just waiting for him to steal people's stuff... It was messed up, George."_

_"Are you sure you're not just... What's that word...? Not exaggerating, but you know when things seem much worse than they actually were because you're upset? Catastrophising? That."_

_"What? No!" The agitation is obvious. "I mean it, it was... It was horrible! And the community house, and the stuff Tommy said he did when he was in exile..."_

_"I just– Sap, it's_ Dream. _He's our friend. I mean, he's done some stuff, I guess, but this?"_

 _"Oh my God, George,_ yes _! It was fucked up!"_

 _"I... Okay," George says. It's clearly just intended to appease Sapnap, but his boyfriend takes the way out. Right now, he just wants to curl up in bed and pretend the last day never happened._

"You never like saying he's done something wrong," Sapnap mumbles, almost to himself. 

George freezes. "You remember that?" 

"Dunno. Head's all... Fuzzy." 

"I swear, Sap, I won't say that again. He... What he's done... I just never wanted to think..." 

"Dreamt about you sometimes," Sapnap confesses hazily, "You're really pretty." 

George doesn't respond to the comment with anything more than a blush. Instead, he studies Sapnap as he blinks repeatedly, shaking his head ever so slightly at random intervals. "You need sleep." 

"S'not like you sleep right either," Sapnap protests. He lets himself be pushed back into a lying position, though, so George counts it as a win. Then Sapnap winces. "Don't know why I know that. 'M really confused." 

"I know," George says heavily, "I know." 

There's no way he can fight his exhaustion anymore, so Sapnap lets himself succumb to the darkness. He doesn't protest – doesn't even want to – when the last thing he's aware of before he falls asleep is a tentative press of lips to his forehead. 

* * *

The next few weeks are much the same. Sapnap wakes up to one other person in his room. It's usually George, but sometimes it's Quackity or Karl. Once or twice, it's even been the nervous-looking teen who'd been asleep on the floor that first day, Ranboo, and on a single memorable occasion it had been Tommy, surprisingly, serenely calm as he sat with a book titled _The Art of War_ which he claimed to have stolen from somebody. No matter who it is, Sapnap struggles through a conversation which he fights to not keep quiet during, forcing himself to accept that he can't do the tasks he's supposed to do for Dream, occasionally plucking flashes of moments from the void of time which he can't always recall without prompting. The memories come more easily now, and they're more complete. His visitors can tell when he's tired, though, recognising the moment he loses the ability to focus on the situation from the way he begins asking for Dream. When that happens, whoever it is will furrow their brow and insist that Sapnap rests, manoeuvring him back into the bed to lie down despite his attempts to reach the door. He continues to do it, feels as if he _should_ do it, but even he's willing to admit that he doesn't have quite the same passion to find ~~his God~~ the other man as he used to. The longer he's here, tucked away from Dream, the less brilliantly golden the time he'd spent with the masked man seems. 

His favourite moments, even as he tries to find himself again, are spent with George. It's odd, really, because George is the one who makes him feel the most sick, the one who leaves him feeling like his head is splitting open, the one who makes his world feel unreal and unstable. But there's just something about him that makes it all worth the pain which diminishes day by day, especially when the two of them manage to forget about everything around them and simply exist in the house that feels more like a home than Dream's ever did. George feels like home. 

Today, George has wrangled him into the kitchen, even as he protests, "I can't bake!" 

"Well, today, you can." 

"You can't bake either!" 

"Sapnap!" George's indignation is overshadowed by the small grin on his face brought forth by Sapnap's memory of his atrocious cooking. 

The flour is everywhere within minutes. Sapnap doesn't know how it happened, but they're already a mess, so he takes the initiative. While George is frowning at a recipe book, he grabs a handful of flour. Then he flings it at George. 

"Oh my God!" George yelps. "What the hell, you're so _annoying_!" 

The responding throw is expected, but Sapnap still ends up spluttering as it hits his face. From there, it devolves until the two of them are giggling madly, leaning on counters to hold themselves up. Each of them is coated head to toe in flour. The only place untouched by it is, ironically enough, the bowl they'd planned to use for mixing. 

"What is _wrong_ with you?" George gasps out through his laughter. "We're going to have to clean this up! You're actually the worst." 

"You love me, though, Georgie," Sapnap teases back. 

George stills. His eyebrows shoot up, but he definitely isn't looking displeased. In fact, he's looking at Sapnap with a degree of emotion he rarely displays, eyes shining even as he gapes at the younger. Sapnap feels his face grow even warmer than it already is in the aftermath of their laughing fit. George swallows, clearly fighting to get the words out, and when they eventually come out, it's worth the wait. 

"Yeah," he chokes out thickly, "Yeah, I do." 

"I–" 

There's something to be said for bad timing. The moment that George is willing to say it, Sapnap can't reply. His planned response sticks in his throat, choking him. He wants to say it, but that slowly decreasing yet ever-present part of his mind has tangled his tongue into knots, screaming that those words should be saved for Dream alone. For the first time since that one night which prompted Dream's intervention, he's able to muster true, deep seated hatred for the masked man rotting in the prison. He wants so badly to tell George how he feels, to tell him that even if he weren't remembering more things by the day, he would have fallen in love with him all over again over the course of these weeks. 

But he can't. 

He flounders for a moment, then settles on the closest he can get to the heartfelt declaration that the non-rebellious parts of him want to make. "Same." 

It's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. But just that single word makes George's face soften. 

"We'll get through it," George says, lacing his flour-covered fingers with Sapnap's. 

"I think it's going to take a while," Sapnap admits. 

"I'm not going anywhere." 

Stood there, just the two of them present as the warm sun bathes the kitchen in golden light, cheeks still aching in the aftermath of laughter, Sapnap believes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it! Would anyone be interested in me doing something to show what my works are without me coming off anon? I've only got one other so far, and it's Karlnapity not Georgenap, but if you guys would like to see it I'd be happy to make a series of unrelated works or something! I just want to know what you think, since I know some people find that it can be offputting seeing a series and then finding out it's one-off works. Lmk in the comments, thank you all for reading <3


End file.
